


The Initiation of Tifa Lockhart

by everylemon



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everylemon/pseuds/everylemon
Summary: After she's rescued from Nibelheim, Tifa wakes up in a hospital in Midgar with fire in her veins.
Kudos: 11





	The Initiation of Tifa Lockhart

Tifa wakes to something cool snaking up the veins of her arm. The chill cuts through the heat that’s been suffocating her dreams: Fire. Everything on fire.  
  
She’s been on fire, too.  
  
But the coolness spreads and forces back the choking heat.  
  
“There, that helped,” a woman says. “See, her fever’s breaking already.”  
  
A man grunts his approval. Tifa knows the sound from her training days: Zangan. She turns her head towards him and tries to open her eyes, but it’s hard.  
  
She’s so tired.  
  
A calloused hand cups her cheek. “Rest, Tifa,” Zangan says.  
  
So she lets go and slips back into blackness.

* * *

When Tifa wakes for real, Zangan is gone. Something beeps with quiet regularity. The room smells like bleach, the sheets are rough, and there’s a tube in her arm connected to a bag of clear liquid on a metal stand.  
  
It reminds her of the clinic where her father took her after the accident on the mountain, but bigger. After all, she’s alone in the room, and there are walls instead of dividers.  
  
She considers trying to sit up, but it feels useless. Instead, she watches the clear liquid drip into the tube, drop by drop.  
  
Nibelheim in flames.  
  
Her father, dead.  
  
She has no family and no home.  
  
She should cry, but she’s too exhausted. So she slips back into dreams of fire.  
  


* * *

“Ah, you’re awake!” the doctor says as she bustles into the room and heads straight to the computer in the corner. “Fever down, good. I’ll have the nurse bring you something to eat.” Typing. “Let him know if the pain is getting worse so he can adjust your medications.” Somehow, the computer tells the doctor everything she needs to know about Tifa without ever requiring a glance at her.  
  
The woman reminds Tifa of her mother: no questions asked, all efficient cheer. She’s glad she doesn’t have to speak.  
  
When the nurse comes in, Tifa is sitting up and worrying the blanket between her fingers. He brings her a chipped bowl of steaming broth on a plastic tray.  
  
“Try to eat a bit,” he says, settling the tray on her lap. “How’s your pain?”  
  
“It’s fine,” she says — or tries to say, but the words grind in her throat like glass and send her into a coughing fit.  
  
The nurse snatches the tray off her lap and deftly replaces it when the fit subsides.  
  
“Smoke inhalation,” he says with sympathy. “This will help.”  
  
Tifa breathes the salty steam wafting up. The broth itself is an unappealing yellow, but she takes a spoonful. It tastes fake but soothes her throat.  
  
The nurse is swapping out the almost-empty bag of clear liquid for a full one. He’s lanky and young, with light blue scrubs the same shade as her hospital gown.  
  
The warm broth in her stomach revives her a bit, enough to ask a question.  
  
“Where — where is this?” she asks, careful not to spill.  
  
“Hospital in Sector 7.” She must look confused, because he clarifies. “Midgar. Your uncle brought you in, but he had to leave yesterday. You’re from . . ." He checks the computer. “Kalm?”  
  
Tifa very nearly corrects him, but Zangan has trained her better than that.  
  
_You’ll never be light on your feet if you can’t think fast._  
  
If Zangan lied, there was a reason. And it sets her on edge. Wherever she is, it isn’t a safe place.  
  
So Tifa just nods, glad for an excuse to leave the lie unvoiced. She drains the rest of the bowl. When she turns to set it on the table, gasping pain shoots through her abdomen.  
  
The nurse catches the bowl before it can hit the floor (Zangan would approve of his reflexes) and settles her back into the pillows. “Easy there,” he says. “It’s going to be a couple more days before you’re back on your feet.”  
  
As he adjusts the tube in her arm, she reads the words embroidered in script on the pocket of his scrubs: _Shinra Hospital - Sector 7_. Shinra. She swallows hard.  
  
“I’ll let you rest,” he says. He’s got compassion in his eyes; she’s not used to seeing that softness in a young man’s face.  
  
“Thank you,” Tifa says, though the words hurt.  
  
He nods and switches off the lights. “I’ll adjust your pain medication before the doctor comes to test your range of motion. Try to get a couple hours of sleep.”  
  
Tifa settles into the pillows with her eyes closed as she hears the door close. She gives herself three breaths — three deep, steady breaths in the beautiful softness — before her eyes snap back open and she forces her mind into gear.  
  


* * *

When the nurse comes back, the monitor is unplugged, the window is open, and the girl is gone.


End file.
